


Whatever You Say

by thelittlestwolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-31
Updated: 2013-05-31
Packaged: 2017-12-13 13:25:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/824797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelittlestwolf/pseuds/thelittlestwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles doesn't remember when exactly he became so used to seeing Derek shirtless. Maybe it was because Derek seemed to spend most of his time, well, shirtless, and the shirts he did own were either torn to shreds and covered in blood or too tight and too small to actually consider shirts. He doesn't remember when he became used to it, but Stiles will never forget the first time he saw Derek with his shirt off, the incredibly terrifying and incredibly confusing night when Derek had asked him to saw his arm off. <br/>Stiles likes to watch Derek with his shirt off, but maybe he likes other things about Derek too. And maybe everyone else knows that but him. <br/>"Love? Love Derek? No."<br/>"Whatever you say, Stiles."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whatever You Say

**Author's Note:**

> for the lovely kaiya, who came up with the idea and who is the sweetest person on the planet

Stiles doesn't remember when exactly he became so used to seeing Derek shirtless. Maybe it was because Derek seemed to spend most of his time, well, shirtless, and the shirts he did own were either torn to shreds and covered in blood or too tight and too small to actually consider shirts. He doesn't remember when he became used to it, but Stiles will never forget the first time he saw Derek with his shirt off, the incredibly terrifying and incredibly confusing night when Derek had asked him to saw his arm off. 

It would be a gross understatement to say that Stiles would never forget that night because he literally  _could never forget that night_ as it was etched into his brain like a scar. The bullet hole in Derek's arm, the wolfsbane turning his veins black, but most notably, Derek's bare torso as he writhed on the floor in pain. Stiles watched as every single one of Derek's muscles contracted and released, muscles that Stiles didn't even know existed. He watched Derek's muscles and found himself wanting to reach out and touch all of Derek's muscles when Derek's pain finally ceased. Stiles found himself to be slightly aroused, but his expression quickly changed when he turned to Scott and found his friend's expression to be confused and concerned. Stiles was confused, but he mimicked Scott's expression and ignored the feeling in his pants. 

As time passed, Stiles seemed to see Derek shirtless more often than he saw him clothed, but he never could quite get the hang of not staring. Only because Derek's muscles seemed to be carved out of stone by gods themselves, and every time Stiles said this in his head he wanted to throw up because he wasn't a thirteen year old girl. But that didn't ever stop him from staring. 

He found himself tagging along after Scott whenever Scott needed to talk to Derek, hoping that Derek wouldn't be wearing a shirt. Most of the times he wasn't, and Stiles stood behind Scott and watched. It never got old. Like a timeless photograph that he wanted to keep forever, Stiles could not stop marvelling over the beauty that was Derek Hale and his muscles. 

And while it might have been the muscles that caught his eye, Stiles focus on Derek also made him see a lot of things that no one else seemed to see. He saw Derek's determination when training the pack, how much it pained him if they failed because he didn't actually seem to enjoy punishing them. It seemed to hurt him more than it hurt them because if they failed, that meant he failed. Stiles understood that. He understood that a lot. 

He also learned Derek's facial expressions, most notably the Stiles-if-you-don't-shutup-I'm-going-to-rip-your-throat-out-with-my-teeth expression, which looked oddly similar to all of the other expressions he gave Stiles. But Stiles did notice that as much as he pretended not to, Derek did feel things. Even if Stiles didn't know what they were or why, he could see it in Derek's face. And in the way his shoulders tensed. In the way he rolled his neck before wolfing out, Derek felt things. And Stiles felt like he was the only one who realized that. 

But he never said a word. Just tagged along and watched, never knowing if Derek noticed him or not. 

And finally, after three years, Scott finally noticed.

"Dude." Scott said, coming over to where Stiles was sitting as Derek was teaching Scott, Isaac, and Boyd how to fight. Stiles didn't hear his friend at all as he was focused on the scene in front of him, watching intently as Derek tossed Isaac to the ground, chastising him for being predictable. 

" _Dude._ " Scott repeated, following Stiles' line of sight right to Derek, and suddenly, Stiles' interest in pack things made sense. Stiles still heard nothing.

"Dude!" Scott nearly shouted, this time smacking Stiles on the shoulder so hard he startled and fell over. 

"What the heck, man?! You can't just sneak up on me like that! We've talked about this. No werewolf stuff!" Stiles said as he straightened himself up. 

"I've been standing here for like, five minutes trying to get your attention." Scott said, finally flopping down beside Stiles. 

"Well, you didn't have to hit me."

"Um, I think I did." Scott argued, making an obvious turn of his head from Stiles, to Derek, and back. Stiles looked at his friend in shock.

"What? Nothing. What are you talking about? I didn't do anything. I think my dad needs me home now..." Stiles scrambled to leave, but Scott grabbed his arm and held him back down.

"Dude- you love Derek?" Scott asked, matter-of-factly, as if he was asking about the weather. Stiles nearly fell over again. He sputtered and scoffed until he could form words.

"What? Love?  _Love?_ Scott? What? Nonononono, Scott, no. Love? Derek? Scott. No. No love Derek. I mean, I don't Derek. Ugh, I mean _I don't love Derek._ " Stiles rambled, realizing that the more he rambled, the more it seemed like he did love Derek, which he most decidedly did not. He was just there for the muscles. And the expressions. And the silent friendship that he was giving to Derek in exchange for absolutely nothing because maybe Stiles knew how terrible it felt to feel alone, like no one really knew you or understood you, and oh my god did he love Derek?

"Whatever you say, man. It's cool if you do. As long as you don't spend all your time over here or anything. You're still my best friend." Scott said with his goofy smile, pushing off the ground to return to the training exercise. Scott and Derek weren't actually friends, but they weren't enemies either. They weren't even really in the same pack, but time had healed a few wounds between them, and Stiles called them brothers-in-arms. Not to them, but to himself because he didn't want to hear them argue about how they were or were not brothers, who was right and wrong, and he liked better when all the werewolves in Beacon Hills played nicely together. 

And as far as Scott was concerned, there were far worse people for Stiles to love, and if Derek made him happy, Scott could deal with it. 

But Stiles did absolutely not love Derek. 

Maybe. 


End file.
